


Maidens in Love: An Annette x Hilda Paralogue

by J_Unlimited



Category: Fire Emblem: Fuukasetsugetsu | Fire Emblem: Three Houses
Genre: F/F, Kissing, Vaginal Fingering
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-12-07
Updated: 2020-12-07
Packaged: 2021-03-10 01:35:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,254
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27946148
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/J_Unlimited/pseuds/J_Unlimited
Summary: The war for the future of Fodlan is in full swing. A thirst for knowledge leads to Annette accidentally discovering a long lost tale of forbidden love. Just as she tries to sort through her emotions, Byleth sends Annette and Hilda on a dangerous mission for supplies. Pushed to her limit, will Annette find the answers her heart seeks?
Relationships: Annette Fantine Dominic/Hilda Valentine Goneril
Kudos: 11





	Maidens in Love: An Annette x Hilda Paralogue

War was no time for books, or so the saying went. Annette begged to differ; if there was ever a time for knowledge, it was now. 

The great continent of Fódlan had been torn in three. Now each of the three shreds fought to overtake the others in a desperate struggle that had already claimed many of her dear friends. She found herself in the center of the conflict quite literally. Garreg Mach stood between all three territories. She had a big role to play in the events shaping the continent. Like it or not, that meant understanding the techniques of war from people who had recorded it.

There was a problem: Annette had run out of books to read. She had exhausted the lower tiers of books on weaponry and techniques, polished the eye-level shelves on arithmetic and calculus. She had even browsed through the fiction shelves and read any stories that were remotely relevant, hoping to gleam some form of lesson to apply to her struggle.

She had read all but the top shelf. It was late in the afternoon, and most everyone was enjoying dinner in the cafeteria. Alone, Annette dragged a ladder to a corner of the bookshelf that, from ground-level, seemed to hold a lot of hefty tomes. 

She found it quite dusty. Pushing aside A Comprehensive Guide to Fódlan Fungi kicked up a cloud of dust. The particles overwhelmed her senses, getting into her nose and mouth. Annette hacked a cough and, before she knew it, she was falling to the ground.

“Dang it,” she said, rubbing the back of her head. The stumble rocked the top shelf, dislodging a couple of books that fell and landed at Annette’s feet. 

As she gathered the books by authors whose name she couldn’t even begin to pronounce, one caught her eye. It featured two doe-eyed young women on the cover. Their faces were fair, their fingers long and slim, their hair long and colorful. Annette thought they looked like porcelain dolls.

“This certainly won’t be helpful,” said Annette out loud. Still, curiosity got the best of her. She flipped open the first page and read.

This is a story of forbidden love. Two young souls from different castes who must overcome a world hostile to them...

“Annette! There you are,” said a shrill voice from the entryway.

“H-Hilda!” said Annette. She took the book and pushed it inside her bag.

“You’re blushing a lot. Did you hit your head?”

“Something like that,” said Annette. She dusted herself off, throwing a sigh when she saw the large pile of books she had left on the ground. “Was there something you wanted to tell me?”

“The Professor wants to see us. Something about an assignment.”

“Alright, I’ll come,” she said, making a mental note to come later and pick up the mess she left.

The meeting with Byleth lasted three minutes. Annette and Hilda had been tasked with arranging an exchange with a minor lord several villages over. They were to go down to Abyss tomorrow, retrieve a package, and deliver it to the minor lord. In exchange, the lord would provide support to the war effort in the form of provisions and weaponry. 

“And Hilda,” said the professor, “please be careful. There’s people out there on the front lines depending on these provisions. We can’t fail.”

“Oh Professor,” said Hilda, leaning forward and blasting her trademarked wink. “You’re such a worrier.”

It was clear to Annette what Byleth’s reasoning was; this was a job that needed doing and everyone else was too preoccupied. So Annette was brought in to counteract Hilda’s lax tendencies. 

Normally, this would send Annette fuming; she was perfectly capable of handling a parcel delivery alone. Self-doubt would creep in and Annette would waste candlelight away trying to propose a better plan.

Fortunately, her attention was occupied by the book.  _ Maidens in Love: A Whisper of the Heart _ was its title. While the dusk settled outside her window, she read on.

The two women were, from the onset, polar opposites. One was the devout daughter of a king, a princess whose humility was matched only by her aptitude for magic. The other was a headstrong orphan with a fierce temper.

The novel chronicled the start of their relationship from their first moment meeting in the halls of the Academy of Sorcery. They were put in the same study group and forced to get along. At first they butted heads to no end, but surviving one life-or-death moment after another helped grow the two closer.

Graduation broke the two women apart. Four hundred agonizing pages later and they met again; on the cusp of war with a neighboring kingdom, the princess is assigned her friend as a bodyguard. 

_ It was the first time we had been alone for years. Some silent but inexplicably intense feeling came between us. I looked into her eyes and nodded. We were more than former schoolmates, more than a princess and her appointed guard. We were lovers. _

_ I moved swiftly to her, covering the length of the room in an instant.  _

_ “I’ve waited long for this moment,” I whispered, my hot breath catching her lips. _

_ “Too long,” she replied. _

_ With a deft hand, she slipped her hands under my _

That was the end of it. Annette threw a loud “No!” as her fingers traced the edges of ripped paper. Dozens upon dozens of pages, possibly reaching a hundred, had been forced out of the poor book. Annette frowned.

It was an old book, giving any zealous individual decades to have gone and censored the book. And Annette knew there were many of those at the Garreg Mach Monastery, a literal holy center.

She pouted, pushing the book to the far end of her desk. Her frustration became double when she saw the faintest hint of sun peek through her window. She threw herself on the bed.

She woke to the booming noise of a fist pounding against wood.

“Annette! Wake up!” called Hilda from the other side of her door. It was fully morning now and, as Annette surmised from the brightness coming into her room, she had missed breakfast.

“S-Sorry about that,” said Annette weakly. “Got caught up with reading. Stayed up all night.”

“Reading? It’s not like you to use excuses,” said Hilda. They met in the northwest corner of the dorms.

“It was... necessary,” said Annette. She wore her long white and blue dress with orange accents, all prim and proper save for the gigantic bags under her eyes.

“Let’s get on with it, then,” said Hilda. She led Annette down a narrow corridor, caught so tightly between two competing structures that no stranger would dare travel between for fear of getting stuck. That led to a winding staircase underground, lit torches with wicking flames providing only a modest amount of light. A wrong step could have you rolling down the stone steps for a solid minute, as Annette unfortunately knew from experience.

It was the monastery’s worst-kept secret. The Abyss—and its inhabitants, the Abyssians—established their own town in Garreg Mach’s underbelly. Annette knew and respected its people, even fought alongside many of them in battle. Still, she saw no reason to visit without an excuse. The cold, steely environment ate people with her cheery aptitude for breakfast.

The Professor had instructed them to meet someone at the bar by the inn. To get there, they first had to pass the ever-watchful guard (“Here on official business,” said Hilda as she flashed a letter signed by Byleth) and its library.

Seeing the library gave Annette a pause. If there was a place for banned books, it would be there, Annette thought. She had to fumble out an excuse to look at it alone.

“According to the Professor,” said Annette as she surveyed the bar. It smelled greatly of stale crackers and wood seeped in several decades’ worth of spilled liquor. “We have to find the least-drunk drunk.”

By the time Annette had taken stock of the people in the room, Hilda had already made her move.

“Excuse me sir, I believe you have something for us,” said Hilda. She had approached a man at the corner of the bar, drink in one hand and a book in the other.

“That’s right,” he said. Without wasting any time, the man reached into his bag and brought out a wrapped package. It was rectangular, not much shorter than a sword. Hilda took it underneath her arm, it’s size making it awkward to hold.

They thanked the man and were about to leave the tavern when Hilda caught sight of Balthus.

“That jerk... He hasn’t paid me back for the gold I lent him and yet, here he is enjoying a drink!” 

As Hilda made her move, Annette decided it was time to do hers. Quietly, she snuck out of the bar and into the library.

Whereas the one in the monastery’s second floor evoked the feeling of a scholar’s den—shelves neat and labeled, dust largely free from the easy-to-reach books—this one was a completely different story. The dark mahogany of the wooden shelves, combined with the dark stone and black spines on most books, gave off an unpleasant vibe. It was dank and scary, something Annette was not.

She approached the nearest shelf and went to work, carefully reading the spine of each of them one by one. The organization was, to be blunt, a complete mess. Bootleg copies of standard texts on weapon maintenance were mixed with Almyran translations of Fódlan history books. Books talking about nonsense like Nabateans were also mixed into the lot.

“What are you looking for, child?” said a woman. She wore a gremory’s cloak, her wide-brimmed hat making it impossible to make out much of her features.

“It’s alright, I can find it,” lied Annette.

“You’re a top-sider, and you top-siders are too stuck inside your own head to look outside it. You’ll never find what you’re looking for.”

Annette had to admit she had a point. Looking up, she saw that the shelves were stacked so high and precariously that she was more likely to die from a loose book than to find what she was looking for.

Taking precautions to make sure no one else was close enough to hear, Annette said her piece.

“I’m looking for Maidens in Love,” she said.

“Ah, that’s an easy one,” said the woman. Annette was expecting some disapproving looks, or even a sassy remark. The woman, she realized, was a scholar on her own right. And knowledge was nothing to disapprove of.

Annette followed the woman to a shelf on the back wall of the library. She had to pull out three different rows of books before she arrived at it.

“I assume you want it complete, yes? I keep censored copies here as well just as a reminder of how foolish some... devotees can be.”

“Y-yes, complete. Please.”

“Here you go, miss. Feel free to take your time with it. Once you finish it, you can come back and I can provide some recommendations. That is, if you’ll listen to an old hag like me.”

“Thank you so much,” said Annette, bowing so hard and fast it hurt her back. “I’ll bring it back, I promise!”

By the time Annette had finished her tasks for the day, it was already nightfall. She knew she had to rise early the next day, so she told herself she would only read a couple of pages before bed. 

Her hands trembled as she flipped to her last page. The book was yellowing, its pages crinkled due to being dog-eared time and time again.

_ With a deft hand, she slipped her hands under my skirt. It was a place that, until tonight, had been unscathed by the forceful touch of a man. But tonight I would share it with someone I love. Someone I’ve loved for a long, long time. _

_ She reached between my legs. Now there was nothing but air standing between me and her. _

_ “Is this alright with you, my princess?” said my bodyguard. Her firm right hand brushed against my cheek. So tender was she. _

_ “Yes,” I said, gulping. “What use is there in surviving until tomorrow if we can’t live happily today?” _

_ She stroked my folds, finding the epicenter of pleasure with ease. So efficient was the love of a woman! _

_ I let our short, breathy moans. As my hip moved in turn with her fingers, I could feel myself being elevated. I was something more than a woman. More than a princess. _

_ I grabbed hold of my bodyguard, putting my hands to the back of her head and pushing her towards me, towards my lips. _

_ Her scent collided with mine. Tongue met tongue in a brilliant flash of ecstasy. Had someone ever felt as good as I did, right then and there? I doubted it could be possible; no God was that charitable. _

_ “Will you promise to be mine?” I said between gasps. The words were clear in my head, but came out horribly stunted. “To be with me and share in this pleasure... for ever?” _

_ “For evermore, my princess,” said my bodyguard. I could see it in her face with that devilish smile that she wanted to participate too.  _

_ “I will not... be finished until I... see to it that... you are... as well.” _

_ With tremendous exertion of will, I managed to focus my thoughts enough—and I very much did not want to distract myself from what was happening—to undo the cotton shirt on her. _

_ It was one less layer between our two carnal forms, and I very much wanted to undo them all. _

_ “Let yourself finish,” she said. There was no use hiding it from me: she was fully immersed in the experience. _

_ “I will not... until I can see you whole,” I said. “Have you forgotten that I’m trained, too? Trained in the art of war. And this, my love, is a war of... attrition.” _

_ But my persistence fell on deaf ears. I could not see my vision through; the pleasure had ramped up so spectacularly that I could hold back no longer. _

_ My approving moans had morphed, from quiet, tender reminders of the experience to loud, errant sounds that pierced the still night air. The pleasure reached a crescendo. It felt like an energy that had come to take me from my sensual, earthly tether and into a plane of pure bliss. _

_ Long were my gasps as I recovered from the peak. My bodyguard looked at me with a sneaky smile, licking her lips. An appetizer before the main course. _

“Oh Goddess,” we’re the first words that escaped out of Annette’s mouth. She folded the page to mark her place and carefully pushed the book into her bookshelf, so that any stranger that might visit her room would not find it out of place with the rest of her tomes.

She lurched to sleep, feeling things she wasn’t sure she should be.

It was a muggy Garreg Mach morning. Annette met Hilda at the monastery’s gates. The pink-haired warrior had the package under her arm and a menacing silver axe at the hip of her dress.

“You ready?” said Annette, taking out a folded map.

“I should be asking you the same thing. After you overslept yesterday and all,” said Hilda.

“I’d like to remind you that I’m the studious one and you’re the lazy one, Hilda,” said Annette, her tone coming off more acerbic than she intended.

“That’s all true,” she said, “and I’m already tired of this. So let’s get it over with.”

They left the front gates, opening to a field with rolling hills. It was the southern exit of the monastery, one that Annette took anytime she left Garreg Mach, her home. It was well-trodden territory for her.

“According to this map, we should follow this path here,” said Annette, tracing a line on the paper with her finger. “At this fork, turn left and we should reach the village by sundown.”

“Lead on, then,” said Hilda.

The two girls spent the morning in relative silence. Hilda sprinkled in talk of crafting and fashion. Annette contributed details about the region she learned from her books. It was all a distraction, of course. Annette wanted desperately to share what she had read with someone. Mercedes, her best friend, was a wonderful person, but Annette felt that her pious spirit wouldn’t handle it too well.

Hilda was aloof and, from what Annette had seen, open-minded. She would probably actively engage with something if she found it interesting; if not, Hilda would simply ignore it and carry on.

Annette was not brave enough to share it just yet. So she kept quiet. They reached the fork in the path just after having the lunch they brought with them.

“We should go left,” said Annette. She continued walking, eyes glued to the map.

“Let’s just go straight,” said Hilda.

It took Annette a few seconds to register.

“The map says left. It’s the only path to the town.”

“It’s the only path on the map. If we go around it’ll take us all day just to get there. If we go straight we’ll be there earlier,” Hilda said in a tone that made it seem like the most obvious thing in the world.

“Hilda, the map says it’s a forest. Who knows what—or who—could be in there.”

“Let me put it in a way your rational brain can understand: we go straight, we get there early. That leaves time for shopping, which makes me, Hilda, happy. It also lets us get to the inn at a reasonable time, which lets us sleep longer. That will make us both happy. So, two points for Hilda and one point for Annette.”

Annette looked weary. “I don’t know Hilda. The map—“

“Annette, stop talking about the map! It’s your feelings that matter. Your gut! Your heart! Not some piece of paper,” said Hilda as she waved her arms in the air.

“We don’t know what we’ll find over there,” said Annette. Something Hilda had said hit a nerve. “We could get hurt. Or worse!”

“You’re a powerful, amazing woman, Annette! You’ve lived through more battles than you can count, and I know you can count very high. You’ve stared death in the face and you’re scared of a few trees?”

“But—!”

“I’m going,” said Hilda. She was on the straight path. Annette stared at Hilda’s back, watching her body sway without a care in the world.

Annette wanted to be strong and Hilda was strong. Not strong in the “level a house with a swipe of an axe strong”, though Hilda had plenty of that, but strong in the way that someone who was sure of themselves was.

The decision was clear.

“Wait for me!” cried Annette as she raced to catch up.

They soon reached the mouth of the forest. The fog, dense as it was on the walk over, was twice as thick among the trees.

“Are we sure about this?” said Annette. 

“Very sure,” said Hilda. “Just follow me, Annie.”

For hours they struggled through the forest’s innards. The high canopy blocked most traces of sunlight, making it difficult to see the passage of time. Annette suspected that she had seen one particular patch of moss before and started marking the trees with a knife.

She had seen the same mark six times now. It was irrefutable now: they were lost. Sweat trickled down Annette’s face and body from the strenuous, uneven ground. Even Hilda, who prided herself on being Dorothea’s equal when it came to applying battle-tested makeup, had hers running down her face.

“Face it, Hilda, we’re lost. Very, very lost,” said Annette.

“We’re not lost Annette. Just a little more this way,” she said.

“Listen to your friend, girl.”

Three men appeared behind them. They wore leather armor and had nasty gashes along their faces and arms.

“Just passing by?” said the man to the right. 

“Yeah,” said Hilda. Her hand went to the hilt of her axe. “Now if you’ll excuse us.”

“We can show you the way out,” said the man in the middle. “If you give us whatever’s under your arm.”

“Looks valuable,” added the last man.

“It’s none of your business, bandits!” blurted Annette. The men snorted.

“That’s not nice.” The three of them readied their swords.

“Look, we’re men who keep our promises. Give us the goods and we’ll do you two favors: let you live and show you the way out.”

As the man in the middle came forward to say this, Annette observed the situation carefully. The men’s stances weren’t bad, and their gear suggested that they were at least somewhat experienced. The men acted as if there was little doubt that they would win.

Annette was confident that either she or Hilda could take the three of them down easily. Still, bandits had a nasty habit of springing up like weeds. There were these three, but what about others?

The man to the left gave her a clue. While the other two had their eyes set on Hilda and Annette, his gaze briefly switched to a point beyond Annette.

They had to act quickly. Information was the most valuable resource in the battlefield. She had to take action not to squander that opening.

“Hilda!” shouted Annette. It all happened in the blink of an eye. Annette pulled out the staff on her waist, flicking it in the direction she believed more bandits were hiding in. A concentrated gust of wind flew out of its tip, raising earth, leaf and root in its trajectory. Whether the attack hit or not was besides the point; it provided them an out.

Hilda worked in tandem with Annette, unhooking the shiny axe at her side. She took a large swing, slicing a tree cleanly in half. The trunk landed at the bandits’ feet, forcing them to scamper back.

They ran away from the scene as quickly as possible. Annette, light as she was on her feet, was no match for Hilda. They heard the vague, distant sound of the voices of men. Annette knew they couldn’t let up for a single instant, otherwise an arrow to the back would be the least of their worries.

Then they heard the cry. It was a piercing, guttural growl that frightened Annette so much she tripped on a root and got a mouthful of dirt.

“What was that?” said Annette. She knew what it was, of course. There was only one kind of creature on this earth capable of producing such an anguished sound: Demonic Beasts.

“Doesn’t matter. We’re going,” said Hilda, taking a firm hold of Annette’s hand.

The same voices began shouting; it seemed that they had met the beast. All Annette heard afterwards was the sharp ding of metal and the sound of snapping branches. 

“We should help them,” said Annette.

“We have a mission to do,” said Hilda. Annette bit her lip and said nothing, for she knew her friend was right.

The sounds died off. Whether it was because the fighting ceased or that they had run too far away, Annette wasn’t sure. One thing was certain: the thicket of trees became less dense the more they ran. They cleared the last brush and emerged into an open field. In the distance was a small village; their destination.

“I can’t believe we made it,” said Annette. She realized that her hand was still clasped tightly in Hilda’s, who struggled to catch their breath.

“That was scary,” she said. “Let’s not do that again.”

“Let’s really not,” added Annette, feeling the most relieved she had in hours.

As they took their first steps to the town, they heard the distinct crunch of wood behind them. It had the appearance of a wolf, only it was roughly two-and-a-half times taller than the women and sported a threatening set of teeth. It could easily fit one of them in its mouth.

“A Giant Wolf,” said Annette, still breathless. She held her staff on her hand. Blood pumped into her brain, fueling her with a single desire: to survive.

“It’s… not attacking us?” said Annette. The beast kept its distance, running its face low to the ground.

“If I had to guess, I would say it was protecting its territory,” said Hilda.

“Let’s leave it alone, then,” said Annette. She took two steps back, eyes still firmly on the enemy.

“No, we can’t.”

“Why not?” said Annette.

“It could attack the town. If we leave it be, who knows how many more lives it will take.”

Annette became furious. If there was ever a time for Hilda to revert to her lazy tendencies, it was now.

“Hilda, we can’t…”

“We’ve faced them before. Come out on top.” She had one hand on the package and another close to her axe.

“Yeah we have, but that was with our friends by our side. We had Battalions with us. We had the professor.”

Annette’s argument for reason became a desperate plea. The wolf held its ground, intent on ending whatever fight Hilda wanted to start. It wasn’t going to stand back much longer.

“Annette, we’ve talked about this already! What does your heart tell you?”

She paused to think about it. The logical thing would be to run away. If it attacked the town tonight, Annette and Hilda would be there, possibly receiving help from locals too. At the very least they would be a little more rested.

Her instincts told her otherwise. She knew the beast might not attack tomorrow, or even within the next few weeks. But sooner or later, the Giant Wolf will take another life. And the blood will be on their hands for not stopping it.

Annette would not let that happen.

As the only one of the two of them with a ranged attacking option, she was the first to move. Annette fired a gust of wind that uprooted the earth between them and hit the beast square in the head. It yelped before shaking its head and pouncing at Annette.

The woods were its domain, so the earlier they got it out into the open, the safer it would be. As the Giant Wolf rushed Annette, Hilda slammed her axe into the Giant Wolf’s side. The blow interrupted its attack.

Annette followed with a more powerful gust storm. The wind gathered around the beast, still dazed from the attack. With intense concentration, Annette managed to command her spell to lift up the beast, propelling it several feet in the air.

“No, Hilda!” cried Annette.

Having placed the package carefully aside, Hilda put both hands on the axe and kicked off the ground. She cocked the massive, sterling blade behind her back, bringing it down with as much force as she could muster on the Giant Wolf’s neck. The added momentum let her penetrate the beast’s hide, making it a clean hit.

The head split off. Shortly after, the wolf’s body turned to black matter and disappeared.

“That was some hit,” said Annette. She held onto her knees, both because she was tired and to stop them from buckling under the stress.

“Only possible thanks to your quick thinking,” said Hilda. She heaved the axe on her shoulder and flashed Annette a wide grin.

Annette couldn’t help but do the same. She wouldn’t say it was fun, but it was certainly exhilarating. To have defeated a demonic beast by themselves… well, not even the professor could pull that off.

“I’m ready for a shower,” said Hilda.

“And a nice, hot meal,” added Annette. “Maybe we can find some—”

Any hopes of celebration were dashed in an instant. A Giant Wolf’s massive claws came down at Hilda from behind, stomping her to the ground. Annette was about to fire off a spell when two more Giant Wolves showed up.

“No!” cried Annette. There was too much to process right now: should she fight to free Hilda, or take care of the other two first? Did she even have enough energy left to fire off all the spells necessary to win?

“This is… not good,” said Hilda. She managed to hold herself up. She was alive and, if injured, not critically so. That was one problem to overcome for Annette.

One of the beasts jumped over Annette and had its sights set for the town. It was only after a growl from the wolf holding Hilda down that the beast backed away, turning to face Annette.

“They have their sights set on the town,” said Annette.

“Leave and warn them,” said Hilda, all the while keeping herself from sinking into the ground.

“I can’t do that,” said Annette.

“Annette!” shouted Hilda. She was so loud and her voice sounded so exhausted that it worried Annette. “The mission is what matters!”

“No,” said Annette. Her voice became stern and her head, despite the overwhelming exhaustion, was clearer than it had been in days. “What matters is my heart!”

The beast closest to her leapt. Annette jumped back, missing the gnarly swipe by a hair’s width. She wasn’t fast enough for a second hit. A follow-on attack from another Giant Wolf landed, knocking Annette back.

“Watch out!” cried Hilda. A mildly concussed Annette reacted just in time, firing off a wind spell that sent a jumping wolf flying off into a tree.

The longer the fight dragged out, the less likely they were to come out alive. Demonic Beasts were poorly understood, but from what little research she’s found she knows that these things can outlast most anything.

There was only one way she would win, and that was to go all out. Annette brought out her staff in front of her, holding it firm with both hands. The beasts, sensing that she was preparing something powerful, encroached her.

She summoned every ounce of strength she had. Not just her power, but that of her ancestors. Hundreds of years’ worth of Dominic bloodline coursed through her veins. All their hopes, dreams of a better future channeled into Annette, the last surviving wielder of the Crest of Dominic. She would need it all to challenge the Demonic Beasts.

The sky, a darkened blotch of blue, became bright white. The Giant Wolves couldn’t wait any longer to attack; the ones not holding down Hilda pounced all at once.

Hilda screamed Annete’s name, but she paid it no mind. The light transferred from the sky and pushed down to the earth in a concentrated beam, with Annette at its center. The pillar of light flooded the space, covering every inch of the battleground, even Hilda.

When the dust settled, there were no more Demonic Beasts to fight.

Annette collapsed from exhaustion. She saw glimmers of action as her eyesight faded in and out. A vision of Hilda rushing to her side. Of the girl cradling her head in her lap. Of strangers rushing from the direction of the village. Then there was black.

She woke up in a soft bed. A bundle of sheets was draped over her.

“Where are we?” said Annette. A second later, she realized Hilda was off in the corner, brushing her hair.

“At the inn, Annie,” she said.

“What happ—” The events in her head were hazy.

“You knocked yourself out using that big spell with light. Saved us both in the process. The town too,” said Hilda.

“Abraxas,” muttered Annette. Her mind cleared quickly.

“Turns out the monsters really were a threat to the town. They said they’ve been coming every couple of nights, tearing through homes and killing anyone who stands in their way.”

Annette stared at Hilda’s back. She wore a sheer nightgown trimmed with lace and adorned with plenty of pink and brown bows. There were scrapes on the exposed skin that Annette could see but nothing too serious. She could get rid of it with healing magic if she could just touch her.

The thought made Annette blush. When she looked around, there were no other beds in the room.

That was normal. They had napped together before, in simpler times when Fódlan found itself in relative peace. There was nothing weird about it back then, so there shouldn’t be anything odd now.

A lot had changed; the war, for one. Living to see tomorrow was never a guarantee but it had only become harder. That meant treasuring every moment of every day. It meant living without regrets or fear.

Though silly to think about, reading Maidens in Love had changed Annette. A small part of her knew it was possible, but she hadn’t realized just how utterly and completely one woman could love another until she read the novel. She found its many parallels with her current situation… alluring.

Annette blushed again, hiding her rosy face under the covers. She was covered in a nightgown. It was Faerghus blue and had been with her since her student days at Garreg Mach. It felt soft against her skin, giving her a warm feeling almost immediately after putting it on.

Except she had no recollection of putting it on.

“H-Hilda,” said Annette. “Did you put my gown on?”

“Silly Annie,” said Hilda before turning around to face Annette. “Of course I did! How else would I get to see you naked?”

Annette’s heart raced, beating twice as fast. She could practically feel the blood leave her extremities and come to her head to help her process the new bit of information.

Hilda. THE Hilda. The strong, beautiful, carefree Hilda, had seen her naked. To say she was flabbergasted would be an understatement. The embarrassment was much, much too high. If it was possible to die of embarrassment, Annette was sure she was close.

Hilda, sensing how her friend’s temperature was rising so fast it heated up the air around her, had to offer a clarification. “I was only joking. I had to make sure you weren’t too injured. I promise I didn’t touch or get a good look at anything.”

“Okay,” said Annette meekly. She took a deep breath and addressed Hilda again. “You know, it’s not fair.”

“What isn’t?” said Hilda. She put her brush down and walked next to the bed. She looked genuinely confused.

“That you got to see me naked… when I haven’t seen you like that.”

When the last word escaped Annette’s lips, she felt tension rise up to her throat. That was it, Annette thought. There was no going back to the way their relationship was before. It was a scary cliff.

“I-I didn’t realize you cared so much about that kind of stuff,” said Hilda. She tried to play it off but Annette could tell Hilda was flustered. The pink-haired girl wasn’t looking Annette straight in the eyes.

Annette didn’t want to stop. She tugged at Hilda’s manicured hand. When she sat down next to her on the bed, Annette started.

“I recently discovered this book. It’s called Maidens in Love. In it, these two girls—two friends—meet in an academy. Facing danger together, they become more than friends. They become lovers.”

“Do you—do you love me, Annette?” said Hilda. Her tone, usually high-pitched and aloof, was considerably more moderate.

“What? No, no!” said Annette. “I think it’s too soon to feel that kind of thing. What I did feel was their passion. There was so much of it, and it just made me want to—“

“To feel it for yourself?” said Hilda. She took Annette’s hands in her own. “Look at you Annie, talking like a woman.”

“You’re not taking me seriously,” said Annette as she pulled her hands away. Hilda had dealt her a savage blow, trying to trivialize a moment that took Annette so much courage to share.

“Annie,” said Hilda as she put her hand on Annette’s cheek. “I’ve never taken you more seriously.”

Annette’s eyes went wide. Her senses became dull. Hilda had kissed her. No, correction: Hilda was still kissing her.

Annette let her lips do the talking. She embraced the moment and everything it offered. Hilda’s perfume was the perfect balance of fruity and elegant. No separation between them, just the sweet, lucid taste of her lips.

“See? You talk too much, Annie. You really have to—“

Annette broke out of her stupor and pushed Hilda onto the bed. She then climbed on top of her, putting one leg between Hilda’s thighs. Annette had fought beasts five times her size, and what she just did with Hilda was still the bravest thing she had ever done.

“—to follow my heart? I’m planning on it.”

Annette locked her fingers with Hilda’s, pushing her arms down on the soft bed. The mage planted a light kiss on Hilda’s cheek before moving back to her lips. She would trade a million meals at Garreg Mach’s cafeteria to enjoy one kiss with those lips.

Every now and again, Annette would move to peck at Hilda’s neck, down to her collarbone. Hilda tried hard to stifle her moans. Still, some escaped. Annette took a perverse pleasure in hearing them.

“This isn’t the Annie I’m used to,” admitted Hilda. Her skin was flushed.

“Is that a bad thing?” said Annette, still on top of Hilda. She could only imagine how unruly her hair was.

“Not at all,” said Hilda, smiling.

Hilda freed her left hand from Annette’s grasp. She used it to bring Annette’s nightgown up. With the nightgown lifted, Annette’s lower half was fully exposed.

Annette knew where this was going.

“Is this OK?” said Hilda.

Annette nodded. Of course it was OK, she thought. It was more than OK.

“Good,” said Hilda, smiling again.

Annette felt an immediate reaction to Hilda’s touch. Hilda’s fingers worked her, putting pressure in slow, concentrated motions.

Her hips moved as if they had a life of their own, succumbing to the rhythmic pressure from Hilda’s hand.

A cold sensation hit her chest. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, but Hilda had removed Annette’s nightgown, completely exposing her. She toyed with Annette’s nipple. Her tongue was so cold, and the way it ran up and down her nipple was so lewd. It was also amazing.

The teasing continued. Annette was all too happy to kiss Hilda when her head approached hers. 

Annette had gotten very warm in the past minutes. Her insides felt like they were on fire. A powerful energy was building up inside of her, waiting to be let free.

Hilda pulled her lips away, leaving a thin trail of saliva between her and Annette. Annette kissed again but all she got was air. She wanted more.

“You’re really cute, you know that? Like a puppy,” said Hilda.

“That’s mean,” said Annette, but she didn’t care; not really. She was still pleasantly aware of the service she was receiving from Hilda. Pleasure came in insulating waves, coming down before reaching a higher peak than before, only to come down again. That lazy girl had a knack for this kind of thing and Annette didn’t want her to stop.

Suddenly, Hilda wasn’t on top of her anymore. She had slid down Annette’s slender frame. Hilda’s head now hovered over Annette’s clitoris.

“W-What are you going to do?” said Annette, pausing in between words to let out a moan.

“Bite you!” said Hilda. She opened her mouth wide, still smiling. She looked like a shark.

Annette braced for something painful. Instead, she felt nibbling on her inner thighs. It felt weird at first. Then the feelings of unbridled pleasure she was getting from two different places merged into one.

Annette couldn’t tell where Hilda’s mouth or fingers were. She just knew that whatever had been building up inside her—the energy that took a stranglehold over her body and absolutely wouldn’t let go—wanted out.

The pleasure had become too much to keep inside her. She released a loud, long moan that pierced through the still night air. Annette’s toes curled and her hips launched up, arching her body.

“Did you have fun, Annie?” said Hilda with a smile.

Annette, who oftentimes spent days worrying about abstract formulas or indecipherable text found in books, worried about nothing at all. Her flesh was ultra-sensitive. Her vision was spinning. Annette imagined that her hair was a disparate clump of orange pointing wildly in all directions.

“Annie?” said Hilda.

Annette was so very tired. She didn’t care that she was stark naked. She rested her head on the pillow, mouthed “... talk tomorrow…” and drifted off to sleep.

They left the inn early to meet the lord. Annette, racked with guilt, spent the better part of the trip over apologizing.

“Annie, it’s fine. You don’t have to pay me back,” said Hilda.

“I feel awful that I didn’t do anything for you,” said Annette. The guilt was real, but beyond that she felt wonderful. She couldn’t remember a better night’s sleep.

“Seeing your cute, naked, snoozing self was more than enough for me,” said Hilda in front of the village tavern’s door. She then pushed the door in, careful not to let the package scrape the wall.

The tavern was empty save for an occupied table near the back. Sitting on it was a gaudy woman with an elaborate scarf.

“Excuse me,” said Annette, “are you Lord Quincy?”

“Indeed I am. Is that the delivery?”

“Just for you,” said Hilda as she handed it over.

“Oh my. It is truly a miracle that this precious thing survived the war. I never thought I would see it, much less have it in my possession. I would gladly give that beautiful Professor of yours ten times the provisions.”

“So we have a deal, then?” said Hilda.

“Absolutely,” said Lord Quincy. “I will have my best men oversee the transport.” The Lord gave the package a big hug.

“Do you mind if we see what the package is?” said Hilda. “We almost died trying to protect it.”

Annette was about to scorn Hilda for being so nosy, but she was curious too.

“Why of course,” said the lord. “I will show you, but please do keep quiet on it. Will you?”

Hilda and Annette nodded.

Lord Quincy tore apart the package, revealing a painting. It wasn’t just any painting, though; it was exactly the same as the cover of her copy of  _ Maidens in Love _ .

“Maidens in Love,” gasped Annette.

“So you’re familiar? I didn’t realize you weren’t girls, but cultured women instead. Are you familiar with their story?”

“They were real people?” said Annette.

“Quite real, yes,” said the lord, sweeping her eyes over the painting. “Unfortunately, historical texts have a nasty habit of scrubbing away important women.”

Annette could hardly believe it. They said their goodbyes and left the tavern. The morning sun was bright and, if only for a little bit, all seemed right with the world.

“Hey Annie,” said Hilda. She put her hands behind her hips.

“Yes?”

“After we get home tonight, do you mind coming to my room and telling me more about the story you read? That… or we could do something else.”

Annette blushed. She lightly tapped both cheeks with her hands, as if slapping herself awake.

“Teaching history is important,” said Annette. “So I’ll be sure to come… prepared.”

“Now let’s go. I have shopping to do,” said Hilda. She took hold of Annette’s hand and the two ran off inside the town.

  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  



End file.
